broken, colder than hell
by lost in my design
Summary: She was certain that he would show up; he wouldn't abandon his family again. Percy/Hermione, sequel to 'half as cold as me.'


A/N: Hello again, dear readers. Quick note to say thank you for stopping by and reading, and I hope you enjoy.

…

_i'm broken and i'm colder than hell,_

_i should have said i'd not come back here_

…

The Weasley family was understandably livid at Percy.

Although they had made up in the tense moments of battle, Hermione was starting to fear that forgiveness would come undone if Percy didn't show up to Fred's funeral.

_He has to come_, Hermione thought to herself. _It wouldn't make any sense for him not to._

But the minutes passed, and although everyone was waiting, Percy never came. There were a tense few moments in the living room as the clock ticked but Percy's hand never moved to 'travelling.'

"Alright everyone," Mr. Weasley said finally, breaking the silence. "He'll be meeting us there, then. Let's go."

Hermione's glance at Mrs. Weasley confirmed that that was certainly not the plan, but she didn't say anything. Percy had to meet them there. He had to come. He wouldn't abandon his family again.

The family, plus Hermione and Harry, trudged out into the fields. Fortunately, everyone was finally old enough to Apparate, or they would all show up dirty for the funeral. Hermione walked alongside George, who was immersed in a tense silence. Ginny, who was standing on George's other side, met Hermione's eyes, and Hermione sighed sadly. She grabbed hold of his arm—he didn't react—and steered him so that they turned on the spot.

They appeared halfway between Hogwarts and Hogsmeade, and George tensed at seeing the school grounds again. Hermione didn't let go of his arm, just continued to walk with him. She noticed Ginny doing the same on his other side.

After a few moments, Ginny broke away from George and took Harry's hand. Hermione watched as Harry muttered something in her ear and Ginny leaned in to him, her own pain evident in her posture. Hermione looked away quickly, hoping vainly that Ron would not try to do the same.

They finally reached Hogwarts grounds, and George froze solid. It took all of Hermione's effort to get him to move forward. "It will be alright, George," she muttered uselessly.

"Where is Percy?" he asked, breaking his silence for the first time in three days. He looked down and met her eyes, and she felt hopeless for the hundredth time.

"I don't know, George," she answered. "I wish I could tell you."

He opened his mouth to answer, then shut it again almost as quickly, looking stoically ahead as they progressed toward the memorial service.

_ I suppose saying that is better than saying nothing at all_, she thought.

The seats quickly filled with those gathering to remember the fallen. Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws mixed together in the rows, creating a weird hodgepodge of students and family and friends. It would have been beautiful if it hadn't been for such a horrible reason. It probably was still beautiful, but Hermione couldn't see it. She continued to hold out hope for Percy's arrival.

It never came. The service started, the same old wizard who had officiated at Dumbledore's funeral and Bill and Fleur's wedding starting to say words about those who die too young. Hermione's eyes closed for a long while, and for the first time she let the pain wash over her. The dead weren't just people who had died; they were fellow students, fellow witches and wizards. They were friends.

"And now, let us honor the fallen by reading each name. Please allow for a moment of silence after the names are read."

"Colin Creevey, Gryffindor."

Hermione looked into the woods, remembering Colin's love for Harry and his passion for fighting with him. His enchanted camera, his over enthusiasm about everything…

"Lavender Brown, Gryffindor."

It was then that she saw him. At first she was certain she was just watching another of the forest animals come out to pay their respects, but there was something innately familiar about him. It wasn't until "Fred Weasley, Gryffindor" was called and she saw him wipe at his face in a very human manner that she realized why.

Percy Weasley had come to his brother's funeral after all.

Hermione looked away and wiped furiously at her tears. Of all the things to make her cry, why this? George had moved beside her, moving his hand to his face for something. He looked down at her and stared, and she realized that no one else would know he was there. He must have thought she was crying about the students who were dead. Oddly, he hesitated, then put a steadying arm around her, and this was enough to make her tears spill over.

She watched the fox disappear into the woods.

…

The service had ended and the Weasley family had gathered together to receive condolences from other grievers. This left Hermione in an awkward spot, and she finally scooted away, away from the mourners and the crying and the pain.

Without hesitation she walked into the woods.

She hadn't walked for long when she realized she had no idea where she was going. She had seen him go back into the woods, but who knew whether he had stayed there? She sighed and sat down on a stump, reliving the service over in her brain and succumbing once more to tears.

She jumped when she felt an arm slide around her waist. She wiped furiously at her tears and looked up to see him there, dress robes and all, as if he'd been at the funeral the whole time.

"You didn't come," she accused, although her voice fell flat.

He frowned deeply. "I couldn't."

She shook her head. "How incredibly selfish of you," she muttered.

"I'm not denying that." He stood and looked away. "If you're half as angry at me as I am you'll be angrier than my entire family."

She sighed. "I'm not angry with you."

"You ought to be."

"Perhaps." She moved so that she could put a hand on his shoulder. "But I'm not."

He shook his head but didn't resist her touch. "I'm a coward, Hermione. I couldn't face their anger. I know how much they must hate me right now, no matter what they say."

"Fred's death was not your fault—"

"I'm not talking about that," he interrupted. "I'm talking about betraying them. For years. I continually chose my job, my career, myself over my family, and look where it got me! I'm miserable, Hermione, and I was miserable a long time before this war started. I abandoned them and look where it got me." He sat down again and put his head in his hands.

She sat down beside him, giving him space. "I don't know what to say, Percy."

"Tell me it's my fault," he muttered. "Tell me I deserve to be alone the rest of my life."

"I'm not going to lie to you," she answered.

It happened very suddenly. One moment she was reaching for his hand and in the next his lips were against hers, passion and pain colliding. His fingers tangled through her hair, creating knots in the style Ginny had worked on for hours that morning.

She pulled away, shaking. "Percy, I can't."

He swallowed. "Why not?"

She shook her head. "Your family needs you, you should come back—"

"You're not answering my question, Hermione," he said. "Why can't you?"

She stepped back unsteadily. "Your family—they don't even know…" She shook her head. "I just can't, and I'm so sorry, Percy."

He didn't answer, just turned away. "Do me a favor and don't tell my family you saw me."

She was surprised by his sudden coldness. "Percy—" She started toward him, but before she could reach for his shoulder he was gone, escaped into the forest, a red blur between the trees.

…

She was holding her tears back by the time she returned to the Weasleys. No one noticed her slip back into the fold since everyone was consumed in their own grief. Bill, Charlie and Mr. Weasley were practically holding Mrs. Weasley upright. Hermione fell in next to Harry.

"Where were you?" he muttered to her.

"Did anyone else notice I was gone?" she asked.

He met her eyes. "No. Are you going to tell me what's going on?"

She took a deep breath. "I suppose I wouldn't be betraying his request if I did." So she told him everything, from the first time she ever met Percy in the Room of Requirement to his coldness to her in the forest. Harry remained silent throughout, his face impassive through every detail. Tears were falling by the time she finished and she wiped them away impatiently. "But he's asked me not to say anything to his family, he doesn't want them to know he was here."

Just as Harry was about to answer, something in George finally broke. Tears started slowly, then fell heavier until his face was blotchy and red and he was openly sobbing. She cursed herself for being so selfish and hurried over to him at the same time as Ginny, who was also crying. Hermione comforted both of them until she felt Ginny pulling away. She turned long enough to see Harry holding Ginny, then George buried himself in her shoulder and she gave in, letting her own tears flow down her face.

…

Hermione and Harry sat up much later than everyone else that night. She was exhausted, but she couldn't sleep, so she paced the living room and waited for everyone else to go to bed.

As soon as George tore himself away from the chair he was sitting in, Hermione sat down next to Harry.

"Usually you're the one giving advice," he commented after a moment.

She stood up and began to pace again. "I don't know that advice is what I need."

"Then why did you tell me?" he asked, eyebrows raised.

"You're right," she conceded. "But…you're the only person I can trust with this, Harry."

He waited a few moments while Hermione paced before he answered, "I think that says a lot for itself."

She met his eyes, then let out a small cry of frustration before collapsing onto the couch beside him. "I can't do this."

"Would you tell Ron if Percy had never asked you not to say anything to his family?" asked Harry.

She shook her head. "Ron overreacts to everything. He would panic the moment I said Percy's name."

They were silent for a long time. Harry put an arm around her and she leaned her head against his shoulder, her heart and mind quieted for the time. "You should tell George," he muttered after a while. "He deserves to know his whole family was there for him."

With that, he fell asleep. She smiled at his sleeping form, peaceful as it so rarely had been awake. She lifted his arm off her shoulder and pulled a blanket over him, muttering good night as she left the living room.

The walk up to Percy's room—her room, as it had become in the days since the final battle—was a long one, as it was the floor below Ron's room. She walked slowly, her mind working overtime as she tried to decide what to do next. The voice from the twins' room shocked her out of her reverie.

"Hermione?" asked George's voice. "That you?"

Taking a deep breath, she opened the door to his room. "Yes, George, it's me."

He sat up and leaned against the headboard. "Thank you for being there for me today," he said.

She smiled. "It was nothing."

"It was something, Hermione," he argued. "You didn't have to be there for me and you were. You were more than my own family."

She felt the smile disappear from her face and she sat down on the other bed—on Fred's bed. "Percy was there, George."

"He wasn't," he muttered darkly. "He didn't even come to the funeral of his own—" He dropped off, the thought too painful, and started again. "I thought he had changed, when he fought for us."

"He has changed," she answered. "He was there, he's—he's an Animagus."

George shook his head. "I don't believe you."

"I don't lie," she said simply. "He's a fox Animagus, I watched him transform the first time he ever did it. He was there, in the Forest. He was scared to face you, he thought you would hate him for killing Fred."

"He didn't kill Fred," he answered, confusion and a hint of disbelief still evident in his face.

"We know that," she said. "But he doesn't believe me."

He sighed, then there was silence for a long while. "Thank you for telling me."

"Don't tell anyone else," she asked. "He probably wouldn't be happy if he knew I told you."

He glanced at her. "Why did he talk to you and not to anyone else? I didn't realize you knew him that well."

With a bitter laugh, Hermione answered, "Apparently I don't."

…

She packed her things the next day.

Part of her wanted to stay and continue to help George heal, to help the Weasleys come together again, to stay in his bed and inhale his scent. It was the last that finally forced her to go, along with the continued awkwardness around Ron. She very much regretted kissing him; that much she knew for sure. She didn't know how she truly felt about anything else.

George came in as the last of her books tumbled into the bottomless bag.

"That's a brilliant spell, you know," he said, pointing to the bag. "You'll have to teach me that sometime, I could make loads."

She smiled brightly. "I would love to help."

He crossed the room and hugged her tightly. "Thanks again, Hermione. You're my favorite non-sister sister."

She laughed. "And you are, by far, my favorite non-brother brother."

He smiled a little and turned to leave. "Where are you going, so I know where I can find you if I need to?"

She shook her head. "I'll let you know as soon as I know myself."

He nodded, then left. She was just remaking the bed when Harry came in and sat down at the desk.

"So you've decided, then," he said.

"Not yet," she answered. "I'm not even certain where I'm going."

He nodded. "You'll let me know."

"Of course."

He glanced out the window. "You should let Ron know, too. He wants to see you happy." He looked back at her, and she felt herself nodding.

"I want to see the same for him," she answered. "I'm just not sure—"

He shook his head. "You don't have to explain."

"Right. Thanks for that."

Harry stood and crossed over to the doorway, then doubled back and enveloped her in a hug. "We'll see each other soon."

"As soon as possible," she agreed.

He let go, smiled at her again, and left. She grabbed her bags and headed out the door without pausing to look back into the room.

…

Hermione realized quickly that she had never been alone, not in the Muggle or in the magical world. It was much more frightening than she anticipated. After staying a few days in a Muggle hotel in London, she returned to the Leaky Cauldron. As much as she would have liked to, she simply couldn't stay alone without being able to use magic.

She deduced quickly that she would either have to find a job or return to school for her seventh year. Professor McGonagall had offered her the opportunity to come back and complete her N.E.W.T. year, and she had almost immediately agreed. After a few days of wandering Diagon Alley, she wrote McGonagall affirming that she would be there.

She then wrote owls to George, Harry and Ron, letting them know where she was and what she would be doing when summer ended. As it turned out, the separate owls weren't necessary; all three were still living at the Burrow, and by means of one reply owl, they answered that, as Ginny had just received her Hogwarts letter (she had been made Quidditch captain and her parents were thrilled) they were coming to Diagon Alley anyway, and the whole family would like to come and visit with her.

The day of their arrival dawned quickly. Hermione was fairly certain that she had gone to bed in May and woken up in August; she had lost so much time in mourning and comforting. She woke early, a headache pinching at her forehead and neck. She cursed softly and rolled out of bed, trying to alleviate it with both a hot shower and with a few healing spells. Neither worked, so she resigned herself to a long day with the Weasleys.

They were (as always) a few minutes late, and rather fewer in number than she expected. Mrs. and Mr. Weasley, of course, who greeted her with hugs and handshakes; Ginny, who rushed forth and embraced her with a smile on her face; Ron, who gave a vague, awkward feeling wave; and Harry, who also stepped forward to hug her.

After greeting everyone, they headed out into the Alley, and Hermione fell in place next to Harry. "Where's George?"

"He was busy today," he answered. "He's working on reopening the shop."

Hermione smiled. "We should stop in later."

"That's the plan!" said Mr. Weasley, who looked thrilled. Mrs. Weasley also smiled happily.

They stopped in nearly every stop in Diagon Alley. Hermione's course load was full as ever, and Ginny's was also fairly heavy, so between the two of them there was quite a bit to be bought. It was nice, though, she decided. She had the chance to catch up with Ron and Harry (both were entering the Auror program in September) and to hear about everyone else whom she'd missed stopping by the house from time to time.

There was still no mention of Percy, and she felt her heart aching a bit.

As early as they had come, Flourish and Blotts was not as crowded as usual, although with a large group they did have to split up. She found herself wandering upstairs into the advanced magic section alone. She ran her finger along a few titles, stopping with a sigh at _Achieve Your Animagus!_ She tried to look away, but it continued to catch her eye. She finally grabbed at it and flipped open to the first chapter.

"It's a good read, you know."

It was as though she had conjured him from pure wishful thinking. She blinked and there stood Percy, dressed in work clothes, a tiny smile on his face.

Hermione's breath caught in her throat. "What are you doing here?" she spluttered out.

"I imagine I'm doing the same as you," he answered. "Shopping."

She couldn't make words, just stared at him. "Your family is here."

"I know," he said with a nod. "That's why I chose today to come."

"How did you know?"

"George," he said, taking a step closer. "He wrote me, wanted me to know that it was okay that I wasn't able to come to the funeral, that he understood how I felt."

"I didn't mean to tell him," she muttered.

He shook his head. "It doesn't matter. Actually, it's best that you did tell him."

"I don't understand, Percy. Why are you here?"

"Because," he said, stepping closer again. "You were right. I should have gone to my family, I should have gone to the service. I'm sorry I walked out on them, and on you."

Hermione bit her lip. "You didn't walk out on me."

"I did," he said. "We could have had an adult conversation about the reasons we should give this a chance and instead I ran away. Do you mind if we try it now?"

She blinked. "I…Percy, maybe this isn't a good idea."

"Do you want to speak first or would you like me to?"

She pinched her forehead, her head aching. "Why don't you go first?"

"Great," he says with a smile. "I have a few reasons."

"I suspected you would."

"The first is that there is absolutely nothing stopping us. We aren't kids anymore, Hermione. We're both adults and neither of us is married, so we're free in that sense."

She raised her eyebrows. "I suppose."

"I'm glad you agree," he said with a smirk. "The second reason is that we have chemistry, and I don't really like that term. But you can't deny that there is something unresolved between us. We can resolve it, if you like."

Hermione sighed. "I'm not going to deny that. But we're in different places, Percy, I—"

"I wasn't done," he said. He took another step closer and took a deep breath to steady himself. "The third reason, and pay attention, because this is the most important one. The third reason is that you are beautiful, Hermione, and I've never told you that. I want to make up for it. I want to tell you every day of the rest of our lives that you're beautiful. The third reason is that I love you."

She bit her lip. "Percy, I can't."

"You keep saying that," he said quietly. "And you've yet to give me a reason why."

She was quiet for a long time. "I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say much," he said. "Yes is more than enough."

She breathed deeply and finally met his eyes. "I'll try."

He smiled. "I'll take that as your way of giving in."

And then, of course, he kissed her. It was slow, unlike their first, and peaceful, unlike their second, because for the first time they both knew it would happen again. And, oddly enough, it did.

…

_just say you love me now and forget this whole row_

_and save your energy for making up with me_

-snow patrol, "grazed knees"

…

A/N: Thanks again for reading, and leave me a note if you'd like (because I know I would :D).


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